


Bandaids and Space NyQuil

by Llama_and_Lion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Divergence, Electrocution, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It does get better, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Psychological Torture, Recovery, Separation Anxiety, Sleep Deprivation, Therapy, Torture, Touch-Starved, Vomiting, updates frequently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama_and_Lion/pseuds/Llama_and_Lion
Summary: When the mission to rescue Slav doesn't go as smoothly as they'd all hoped, Lance opens the Airlock hoping they will be able to escape.Except Lance gets captured.And healing pod can't fix all the things he's been through.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a self indulgent fic so here ya go
> 
> Cannon divergence necessary for this fic is explained in later chapters (hopefully). 
> 
> Big up my beta @wikkedwolff on tumblr without them this would be illegible.
> 
> Will be updated regularly (famous last words).

Compared to their current situation, the rest of their rescue mission had been going pretty smoothly. This is what Lance thinks as the Warden sends him careening across the hangar, smashing into a control panel and falling to the floor in a heap. There’s a streak of green as Pidge is thrown in another direction and Shiro barely has time to catch her small form before she too hits the hangar floor. Ignoring the soreness in his chest from where the Warden had almost managed to crush him, Lance pulls himself up, surveying the situation.

The Warden blocks the path between them and the Green Lion, and whatever crazy purple juice he injected into his neck is making him near impossible to get past. Firing at him had proven ineffective and Lance watches on uselessly as Shiro engages in yet another reckless head on attack with the steroid junkie galra. There must be some other way of getting past that warden without putting themselves in more danger.

 _Think Lance, think._ The control desk in front of him is letting out a loud, high pitched wailing sound, making it hard to concentrate. Lance briefly considers blasting the screen with his bayard just to shut the damn thing up before something clicks. He’s spent enough time around Pidge in the last couple of months that he should be able to navigate the foreign screen, and perhaps it could provide them with an alternative escape route.

Racking his brain for the crash course lesson in Galran Pidge had provided him with only a couple of vargas ago, he scans the screen for anything that could possibly mean ‘exit’.

 _Although_ , Lance pauses, the brightly glowing icon draws his attention along with the jagged symbols that spell out ‘AIRLOCK’. The idea of being sucked out into the vacuum of space is not an appealing one, however - he looks up to see Shiro and Pidge, their shields raised to protect themselves from the barrage of hits from the Warden - with their suits to protect them the plan just coming together in his brain _might_ just work.

“Brace yourselves guys, it’s about to get a little breezy up in here,” he yells into the comms before slamming the airlock open. The sheer force of the air being sucked out of the hangar forces Lance to cling to the panel. Looking up he can see that the green lion, Slav and both paladins have passed the outer doors of the ship and the distracted Warden is busy holding onto not-slav. Gripping onto his bayard tightly and taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he presses the screen once more and the airlock slowly begins to close. Letting go of the panel and using his legs to propel himself toward the ever decreasing gap in the doors.

“Lance, look out!” Shiro’s tinny voice comes through the comm and Lance barely has enough warning to turn his head before a large hand appears from nowhere, plucking him out of the air and knocking his bayard out of his hand. He follows its trajectory, watching with despair as it is sucked out into space and the airlock slams shut behind it.

Just for a moment, Lance can see Pidge and Shiro’s shocked faces and hear the former calling out his name, then the warden drops him, his head colliding with the metal floor and everything goes dark.

-x-

Waking up the first time is the most disorienting, with his legs are folded beneath him uncomfortably and his hands bound to a, _stake, pole?_ They are bolted just a little above his head in this position, which leaves them feeling numb. Shuffling around to move his legs into a more ‘comfortable’ (if that can even be considered under the circumstances) position only causes pins and needles as the blood rushes back into his feet. It’s painful, but bearable. Now is probably a good time to assess his surroundings.

There doesn't seem to be any guards, (Galra or otherwise) in the room which itself is small, perhaps the size of his room at the Garrison. Quiznak, that place seems to come from a long time ago and a million parsecs from where he is now. In the dim purple light he can make out a door on the far wall. Though it looks electronic, and most likely is, there is a small gap between the bottom of the door and the floor where a thin shaft of white light penetrates the darkness. There’s a keypad on the wall beside the door. The tech looks Galran.

The shackles around his wrists pinch and rub at every small movement, _though this,_ he thinks, _is going to be the least of my problems._

Over the next few days (or at least what he thinks are days, as there is no way of being able to tell any sort of time stuck in here) Lance pieces together what information he can. The guards come once a day (again, it’s difficult to tell if this assumption is accurate) to give him food and water. Two come at a time, each day a different rotation of guards, each day they bring new information. He figures pretty quickly, that if he keeps quiet, the guards usually continue their conversations in fast Galran, assuming that he cannot understand him. Which _is_ a fair assumption to make, as the majority of what is said makes no sense, I’m mean, who knew that the Galra had _accents?!_ Thank quiznak Pidge had taught him enough to be able to follow the gist of what he hears.

After he got knocked out, the galra had sent him from Beta Traz to another prison in the empire, a small moon named Plumbum. It had once been mined for some kind of mineral but turned into a prison once the resources ran dry. The other paladins had managed to escape and the empire are currently looking for them. _This_ particular piece of information lifts a great weight off his chest, safe in the knowledge that his friends are okay.

If the others’ missions have gone to plan, that means several things. Their attack on Zarkon will be in place, ready to go at a moment's notice, however Voltron is an integral part of that plan and, without Lance, they won’t be able to form their most powerful weapon. The galra must have already figured this out by now, it makes sense that they would prevent the opposition from gaining a chance to attack. Which also means that it’s likely that they would have figured out that the paladins must be planning something, especially after rescuing Slav from Beta Traz, a dead giveaway, he was a much too specific prisoner. With these things in mind (and quiznak Lance hopes that he’s wrong) it will only be a matter of time before they begin questioning him for information.

Given the option, he’d prefer to be sucked out into the vacuum of space.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is currently unbeta'd but I wanted to update so expect an edit to this chapter at some point and I do apologise for any and all mistakes!
> 
> (Edit: Beta'd chapter now up!)

_ Drip. Drip. Drip. _

It’s cold. His undersuit is soaked with icy water, drawing the warmth away from his skin. He feels, Lance searches for the right descriptor,  _ soggy _ . He laughs at the word. After travelling halfway across the universe, meeting Alien races with languages so carefully constructed they could describe the exact feeling of euphoria you get from watching the sun rise, or the longing you have to return to the place you know, in a word or two. There’s nothing better to accurately describe how he feels in this exact moment that is not encompassed by the good old English word,  _ soggy. _

_ Maybe,  _ he thinks,  _ I’m losing my mind _ . Lance shakes his head viciously from side to side, he can’t afford to think like that. Shifting slightly, the material chafes his legs, which are now tied to a ring in the floor that had previously gone unnoticed. It makes it much more difficult to sit in a way that isn’t at the least, uncomfortable, but he supposes he should be grateful that he still as his legs. They could’ve done so much worse.

It’s been days since that first interrogation. Though days is probably inaccurate. Lance’s brain swims with fog and he blinks hard but it doesn’t clear the weariness from his eyes. Thinking is irritating at best- what little he knows cycles round endlessly- and difficult at worst. The feeling of a thought floating just beyond the darkness of his consciousness, once he can’t quite reach, is disturbing. His brain being unable to access information he knows he has feels about as uncomfortable as the wet fabric sticking to his skin.  _ Oh yeah, the interrogation. _

It was the same as usual, two guards entered the room, one hanging back by the door, gun in hand, while the other approached Lance’s position on the floor. Except this guard hadn’t been holding the usual water and gruel they gave him in this place, only a small item that looked close to a headband in its oversized hands. The guard studied him for a moment, before grinning down at Lance with a mouth full of pointed yellow teeth.

“Paladin,” the guard had sneered down at him, Lance glaring back, “as you can see your room here is a little, minimalistic,” he gestured around the cell. Lance thought he must have been wearing some kind of translation device as he was able to understand every word the Galran said as he continued, “However, should you wish to cooperate with us we can arrange to move you to more,  _ comfortable  _ quarters.” Lance scowled at him but remained silent,  _ if only he would come a little closer… _

“If you could tell us,” the guard had taken a step forward  _ (closer),  _ “the position of the Altean ship,” another step  _ (closer) _ , “or the plan your friends have been plotting,” again another step  _ (just one more now) _ , “or perhaps the whereabouts of the black lion,”  _ (there!) _

Before the guard could finish his sentence, Lance threw his lower half forwards, his leg shooting out and foot connecting with the guards knee which had let out a sickening crack. As the Galran cried out, his leg buckling beneath him and falling, the blaster in his holster knocked loose, landing close to the paladins feet. Quickly he had tried to shuffle the gun closer,  _ if he could hoist his legs up to his hands then maybe… _

A second loud crack rang out as the air was knocked from his lungs, sharp pain spreading out over his side, and the second guard, the one who had been positioned at the door, had a hand clamped over Lance’s throat. The second guard had then proceeded to pry the headband from the first and shove it over the crown of Lance’s head, where it tightened unpleasantly around his scalp.

He didn’t have time to wonder what the purpose of the device was before his body felt like it was on fire. Flames danced across his skin and his body went rigid, wrists straining against the metal shackles that held him to the stake. Then it was over. Lance had lay there struggling to inhale, exhale, to do anything. His tongue felt too big and his lips continued to tingle.

The second guard bent down, his steely glare meeting Lance’s watery one.

“Perhaps,” he growled with a low voice, “you will be feeling more cooperative tomorrow.” Then they had left him, though not before binding his legs together and then to the metal ring.

Lance shudders at the memory, or perhaps because of the cold. It’s hard to tell anymore. The ice water is a more recent addition to the routine, leaving him gasping for air and trembling like a leaf as his body desperately tries to warm him up again.

His stomach aches and Lance curls up as best he can to try and relieve the pain. The little food he’s been given is enough to keep him alive, but he knows they are trying to starve him out too. For someone unable to move around, he knows that he is expending a lot of energy.

He’s so tired and cold and hurt, if only he could get away for a few hours. His eyelids droop, head nodding towards his chest,  _ perhaps they won’t notice.  _ But almost as soon as his eyes close the headband sends out another shock which jolts him awake, muscles clenching and unclenching rapidly. He groans. It’s been like this for days, every time he has been about to fall asleep the band shocks him, forcing him to stay awake. It’s not like the all nighters he used to pull, cramming before an exam while he was still at the garrison, he’d never had to do it for more than one night before.

The shivering doesn’t help the way his muscles ache, nor does the constant wakefulness help his ability to think rationally but he tries anyway. The guards come twice a day (maybe, how long has he been awake?) to question him, so far Lance has said nothing and he can tell the galra are becoming more and more angered by this. The shock sessions have been getting longer. The thought makes him shudder extra hard.

He knows that he won’t reveal anything, if he can just hold out until the others come and rescue him,  _ if they come and rescue him.  _ Lance shakes his head violently again, of course his tired brain would think that. No matter how irritating the others may find him, or even his piloting skills unpolished, they’d still come and rescue him,  _ right? _

A sound at the far end of the room makes him look up, then sag with disappointment as the guard from the first day (Lance has dubbed him Number Two,  _ hey it’s funny! _ ) and another he doesn’t recognise enter his cell. Lance has to squint against the brighter lights outside the door, his eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, and throb painfully, amplified by his lack of sleep.

Number Two looms over him, lips pulled over his teeth in a half sneer, half snarl.

“You know,” he pauses, bending down and bringing his face level with the blue paladins, “you can make all this,” he makes a sweeping gesture across Lance’s body, “go away if you just tell us all about your friends little plan?” Two’s eyes bore into Lance’s which are suddenly steely.

“Fuck you,” Lance spits out, his hatred for the galra bubbling in his throat, “I’ll never betray Voltron, so you might as well stop asking!”

Two looks, bemused. He sighs, straightening up and shouts something to the other guard that Lance doesn’t catch before turning to him. Two smiles.

“We shall see about that soon enough,” Lance braces himself for the inevitable shock, screwing his eyes shut tightly. Except it doesn’t come. Maybe the other guard had been sent to get the icy water. Lance opens his eyes just in time to see Number Two leave the cell, door slamming closed behind him.

This is far from comforting. There is no way they would just give him a break like that, leave without executing some form of punishment. A feeling of dread fills his stomach,  _ have they thought of some new method to try and get information from him? _

He thinks of all the spy films he watched back on earth, of all the ways the CIA or the Russians would torture their prisoners. He vividly remembers one film where they removed a man’s fingernails and teeth, and another where they cut off someone's toes. If he remembers correctly, both methods had proven very effective. If his brain was less sleep deprived he might’ve told himself that that would be too crude for the Galra, but he is sleep deprived and the idea makes him feel nauseous.

But before Lance can be left to ponder a life with four less toes, there comes a loud explosion from far away in the base but close enough to make the room shake. He holds his breath and then, very faintly, there comes the sound of gunfire.


	3. Chapter 3

With each passing tick, the sound of gunfire seems closer. Straining against the bonds, Lance pulls himself into an upright position, feeling more lucid than he has in days. He tries to ignore the flicker of hope blooming in his chest; there could be many reasons that this Galra base is under attack. There could've been an uprising from the prisoners, or rebel fighters trying to take the base, or...

Another loud explosion cuts off his train of thought, this one sounding much closer than before and the cell shakes beneath his body. He holds his breath, counting the ticks to when the gunfire starts again.

It doesn't come. The silence stretches on and Lance strains his ears to try and catch any small sound.  _ What the quiznak is going on out there? _ He breathes, trying to quell the panic squirming in his stomach. The paladins have faced the Galra plenty of times, and at each, they have succeeded, so there is no reason why they shouldn't now.

_ He doesn't think about how they are a member down. He doesn't think about the fact they wouldn't be in this position in the first place if it weren't for him. _

What feels like several Vargas pass before he catches it. He perks up at the quiet sound of metal on metal. At first, it's distant, then, as Lance struggles to pull himself upright again readying himself, it gradually gets closer until it sounds like the hammering of feet against the ground. Lance's heart is in his mouth, will it be a guard or could it be...? He hardly dares to hope.

Then without warning the sound of clanging ceases and is replaced by the electronic whirring as the cell door glides open.

The light outside stabs his eyes and Lance has to squint against the near blinding brightness, but there is no mistaking the shock of white hair barging into the cell.

"Lance!" Shiro stands silhouetted by the light, Galra blaster raised and ready to shoot and Lance has never been more relieved in his life. Shiro drops the blaster to his side, his expression is also one of relief with a side order of concern. That can come later, Lance thinks and grins broadly.

"Shiro my man!" He shouts back gleefully, masking the exhaustion in his voice, "You guys took your sweet time," he jokes to lighten the mood on their situation. His heart is racing with some newfound energy and hopes that the adrenaline lasts their escape.

"Would have been better if you hadn't gotten yourself captured in the first place," Shiro mutters under his breath as he approaches Lance, who can't help but notice the tone of annoyance. The words sting and the guilt pooling in his stomach makes him feel very small.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, hanging his head in shame. He had hoped this lecture wouldn't come so soon.

He hears Shiro sigh as he crouches down next to Lance.

"Hey, look at me," Shiro asks, his voice softened this time, and when Lance looks him in the face can can't find any trace of annoyance there. His eyes start to smart.

"It's alright, we're here now," Shiro reaches out to pat his shoulder but before he can make contact there is another explosion and Shiro has to throw his hand out for balance to stop himself from falling over. Lance shakes his head and blinks hard a couple of times, this is no time for tears; that much is clear.

A tinny sound floats out from Shiro's helmet and Lance can't help but smile as he recognises Pidge's voice coming across the comms.

_ "Hurry Shiro, we can't hold them off for much longer. Have you found Lance?" _ The sound of gunfire sounds nearby as well as across the comms.

"Right here Pidgeon," Lance answers as Shiro begins working on the bonds.

_ "Great, now get out of there quick, they're swarming us," _ The smallest paladin’s voice replies before she gets cut off by the sound of more gunfire.

Shiro curses under his breath and sits back from the shackles. Panic flickers in Lance’s chest.

"What, what is it?" He asks trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Shiro doesn't meet his eyes.

"I," he swallows, "I don't think I can break the bonds Lance, they're electromagnets or something if I do something wrong I could get us both electrocuted," he taps the side of his helmet, "Pidge, is there anyway you can get into the computer system and turn these things off?"

Before the green paladin has a chance to reply there's another explosion. Several alarms start wailing and Lance's chest feels tight with anxiety.

_ "Shiro we need to fall back, we're getting fired on from all sides! We can't let them capture the green lion and we can't afford for any more of us to get captured!" _ Her voice is laced with panic,  _ "We need backup, hurry!" _

The black paladin seems frozen to the spot, his jaw rigid, hands hovering halfway between himself and Lance's ankles, but Lance doesn't miss the guilty expression. His throat goes tight.

"Shiro...?" His voice cracks, the panic beginning to show. Shiro's face softens, but he doesn't try to hide the guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Lance, Pidge is right and they need my help," he stands, picking up the previously abandoned blaster, "We'll come back for you."

Any pretence of appearing strong abandons Lance's mind instantly as he begins wildly straining against the bonds.

"No! Shiro! Please!" Tears are streaking down his face as Shiro turns away from him. "No!" He screams as the black paladin continues to walk away from him. His lungs feel like they may burst and there is not enough air in the room. "Shiro, please, SHIRO!" 

Lance watches though blurred vision as his leader pauses at the door, looking back for long enough to see Lance's sobbing, hitching breaths, before he turns around and runs toward the sound of the fighting, disappearing from sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I love my boy Lance? Yes.  
> Do I want him to be happy? Yes.  
> Do I want to see him suffer? Also yes. 
> 
> (If there are any kind betas out there who wanna get that content before everyone else ;) jk but hit me up @laneboyheathens on tumblr, or if you just wanna yell at me for treating our boi so bad.)
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments you guys are angels!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Major character death (temporary), blood, voilence (mild)

When Lance wakes, he is greeted by silence and the room is dark again. He feels empty. His face itches, irritated by the salt from his tears, and his eyes feel sore. He remembers the feeling of hopelessness and panic, the struggle to fill his lungs with air before he must have passed out.

More prominently than before, Lance feels Blue's absence, her reassuring presence having been offline since his capture. He misses her. In vain, Lance tries to reach out to her with his mind but he is only met with the same silence as before. He has never felt  more alone.

He feels abandoned.

He hates himself for thinking it because it's so selfish. The Galra must've anticipated a rescue mission from the paladins, as much as they are masters of war, they have never underestimated the power of loyalty. So Lance has no right to feel abandoned, not when his friends have risked their lives to try and rescue him. He alone has put their lives in danger because he had gotten himself captured, and that was no one’s fault but his own. If only he had been more careful during their escape from Beta Traz he wouldn't be here now. Because of him, the Green lion could've fallen into the hands of the Galra. Because of him, his friends could've been captured or worse. It doesn't bear thinking about.

Except he doesn't know if they managed to escape. What if right now they are being held in some other cells? What if they are already being tortured for information like the Galra are doing to him?

Shiro already has nightmares about his previous time spent imprisoned. Hunk would struggle with the sleep deprivation, he almost never broke curfew at the Garrison. With his hotheadedness, Keith would get himself beatings. And Pidge...she may be strong but Lance can't help but think about how small she is, how young. Just the thought of it all makes him feel sick.

_ "We'll come back for you" _

That's the one small thing he has to hold onto. It wasn't a promise, but it's all Lance has and he can't give up hope. He's selfish for wanting to be rescued and by extension, selfish for wanting his friends to risk their lives for him again. Betraying Voltron is not an option and so neither is giving up.

He swallows the guilty lump in his throat. It's not about whether or not he deserves to be rescued, this is much bigger than him, the fate of the universe is on the shoulders of Voltron, and the Blue lion needs a paladin. Lance has a part to play in this war, rescuing him is a necessity, not a kindness.

_ Would they even come back for him if he wasn't a necessary instrument to war? _

Now, he really has got to stop thinking like that. It must be the lack of sleep starting to get to him as he finds it harder and harder to push away the negative thoughts swirling around in his mind. By now Lance has lost track of the days, with no way to tell the time and sleep denied to him, the time has blurred into one long, jumbled day.

_Though_ , the band hadn't shocked him awake today and he is still exhausted. The thought of sleep is a tempting one even if he can't be sure he won't get electrocuted again, maybe after some sleep he will be able to think more clearly. His heavy eyelids droop closed and then...

_ Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat... _

With great effort, he fights against the heavy tendrils pulling him down into sleep, and  with a groan opens his eyes again. He strains his ears to catch the faint sound and place it in reality.

_ Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat... _

Through the fog in his brain, Lance recalls the noise as familiar. The regular pattern, the thrum of metal on metal, lighter than he remembers. Too light to be Galra.  The sound reaches a climax, then stops suddenly. Silence spans the ticks, disturbed only by the blue paladins breathing.

_ WHIRRR. CLICK. _

The mechanical noise sets Lance's heart racing as the cell door slides open, painstakingly slow. A small figure slips into the room through the ever growing slant of light, lingering at the edges of the cell, peering into the darkness.

"Lance?" the familiar voice asks in a whisper. His heart leaps.

"Pidge?" Lance hardly dares to hope as his voice cracks on the name. A green light flares into existence casting the youngest paladin’s face in an eerie glow.

His eyes sting with fresh tears as she approaches, her usual determined expression mingled with one of concern. She crouches down by his ankles in order to inspect the shackles there. Her small face looks up to meet his.

"You alright?" Her voice is soft, "Sorry about before, we had to rethink our tactics."

Lance nods, blinking the wetness out of his eyes and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," it comes out much quieter than he had hoped it would, "better, now you're here," and he reaches somewhere deep within himself to produce a smile. Pidge returns it and stretches out at hand to pat his leg when...

_ SCHREEEECH _ .

The cell door, which had been slowly moving open throughout their exchange suddenly rattles to a halt. Pidge swears loudly.

"So much for not attracting attention," all thought of comfort forgotten she frantically begins scanning the bindings around his ankles and wrists, "They might look like some kind of handcuffs but Shiro was right, they are an electromagnetic mechanism. There's a backup system in place too, if my theory is correct, a second person touching then would cause a power surge, shocking both prisoner and accomplice," the thought alone is enough to make Lance feel nauseous.

"But if I hack into the main computer system..." as she says this Pidge stands, darting towards the door. Lance tries to smother the rising panic in his chest as he watches her turn away from him.

"...I should be able to shut off the power to the cuffs," her fingers beginning to tap frantically at a console in the wall Lance hadn't noticed before, "it shouldn't take too long but we don't have much time. Be ready to run when I say, green isn't far from here and if we're quick we might be able to avoid combat."

It's a lot of information to take in all at once, and his numb legs may not cooperate with running. There's a fleeting feeling of panic in his chest. He knows that he is in no fit state to fight, and even if he did have his bayard he's not sure he would be able to shoot straight.

_ His bayard. _

There are several loud beeping sounds emanating from the console as Pidge works away, fingers skipping across the screen faster than he can process. Every few ticks she nervously glances down the corridor, they've been lucky to go unnoticed so far.

"Pidge," he calls across the room. She glances over her shoulder still typing furiously.

"What?"

"Do you have my bayard?" A look of frustration crosses her expression.

"Really Lance? Do you think now is the best time to..." except Lance doesn't find out what she had intended to say, as at that moment a shape moved into the light, casting a shadow across her face.

Time slows. Lance watches as Pidge's expression morphs from frustration to fear, and his warning cry to her comes two ticks too late.

The guard already has his blade drawn as Pidge whirls round, her bayard ricocheting off the metal uselessly causing her to stumble backwards.

"Pidge-" her name sticks in his throat as the guard lunges towards her with the blade at the moment she rights herself.

She doesn't have the chance to react.

It's not like the movies, there is no dramatic music, no close-up, no scream. In the dim light, he can make out her tiny body, the glint of the blade, her feet dangling limply in mid-air. The green glow of her bayard flickers weakly for a moment, then clatters to the ground. The guard steps back and Pidge's body crumples on the floor. Her head lolls the shaft of light and expressionless vacant eyes stare at nothing.

The low, wailing moan that passes Lance's lips does not feel like his, detached from his body and the ringing of his ears. Mingled grief and guilt swell up from his navel, swirling and thrashing inside, bubbling over to form sobs, the word no, repeating over and over. His insides burn. He cannot tear his eyes away.

A thin trickle of blood runs down her pale face from her open mouth.  _ She's dead _ , his mind supplies dumbly,  _ it's your fault she's dead. _

Lance jerks his head to the side just in time to retch pitifully.

"Pathetic," the low growl in the harsh language reaches him, "how many times will you let them risk their lives? How many times will you watch them die?" He laughs, sheathing the blade and turns, pressing a few keys on the console. The cell door hums back to life and begins to close. The guard disappears into the decreasing shaft of light and into the corridor beyond.

Lance's eyes widen in horror and shift back to Pidge, her body still sprawled on the cell floor, stuck here in the same room. He feels sick all over again but somehow can't look away as the light wanes, legs disappearing into the darkness.

Then she twitches.

Except, she doesn't exactly twitch, more accurately, her whole body shifts three inches to the left and back again, her position unchanged. Lance stares. It happens again, this time the right side of her body breaks up into thin lines, shimmering in the light for a moment before coming back together again. Then, just as the door is about to shut and cast Pidge's face into shadow, she twitches, no,  _ glitches _ . Her features pixilate, and with a faint click, she vanishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all is as it seems...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm sorry that this update has taken so long but as an apology for that, here are two chapters instead of just one!
> 
> I'm going to be honest with you guys, I really struggled writing this chapter. I barely found the motivation and then when I read through the finished thing I just...hated it? I didn't want to post something that I thought wasn't very good but trying to re-write it just...I couldn't make what I wanted to say come out on the page. So instead I decided to write the next chapter which is one I've really been looking forward to writing! I hope that you guys understand that I felt this chapter was a necessary, even if it's not the best, and that the next chapter makes up for it.  
> Anyway I'll stop rambling now!!!
> 
> Thanks for your patience!!!

_ Hologram. _

The word keeps turning around in his head like a broken record. It seems like the most feasible explanation for what he had seen, and it probably isn't too far fetched of an idea anyway. If the Galra used a similar three-dimensional program to the one Pidge used to produce the facial recognition model, which had gotten he and Shiro into the cells, then they could easily create depictions of his friends. They had spent enough time in Beta Traz that there would be sufficient footage of the three of them to produce the detailed images of Pidge he had seen. Their voices had also likely been captured, as well as the form of their bayards.

Alternatively, Lance is going mad. He prefers the holograms.

However, despite knowing that the second 'rescue' attempt had been contrived by the Galra (most likely as some new torture technique to try and break him) Lance cannot definitively prove that the first rescue attempt wasn't genuine. He likely was never meant to find out about the use of holograms, there must have been some glitch that allowed him to see not-Pidge as a rendered image and not a solid person. He doesn't know if the first attempt was a hologram. He doesn't know which would be better if it was real or not real.

Then there is the fact that even though he knows about the holograms, he probably won't be able to tell the difference between the real paladins and the holographic ones, and he suspects that the Galra aren't finished with him yet. He'll have to treat any hologram as if it's real, just in case it really is.

The thought alone makes him feel nauseous, and the thought plays over and over in his head. Here in the cell, he has nothing but his own thoughts, and a waiting game to play.

 -x-

_ Three times killed. Two times abandoned. _

His hologram theory is further confirmed, not only because not-Pidge comes to rescue him again, but because she and Shiro are the only two he ever sees. This lines up with the fact that the Galra would only have footage of them because of their mission to Beta Traz and not of Hunk or Keith.

_ Abandoned three times by Shiro, twice by Pidge. _

The Galra make it more difficult for him to tell, real or not real, but changing the outcome of the situations. If the scenarios were repeated it would be easy, Lance would always know the outcome before it would happen, much like Groundhog Day, but they don't.

There aren't always explosions when Shiro arrives, and sometimes there are when Pidge does. Always different. Always changing.

_ Four times shot, three times stabbed. _

Regularly the guards come and question him, perhaps daily, perhaps more frequently. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't know. The electrocution from the headband is reserved for the questioning now. Occasionally they will beat him but his arms and legs are numb, and the hollow feeling in his chest hurts more than the blows ever do.

_ Shiro is barely through the cell door before a blaster is planted against the back of his head. Lance has lost count of how many times he has watched him die. _

If he could only sleep then maybe he could look at the situation logically, or perhaps more critically. But between the sleep deprivation, and waking up from the constant bombardment of potential rescues, he barely manages to scrape a varga here and there, and even then, it's restless.

When his eyes finally close, all he sees is Pidge. Her feet hanging limply in the air as a blade protrudes through her chest, half her face blown away, ragged and bloody. Her tiny body shaking and struggling, fighting for air as a galra soldier crushes her throat.

_ Lance screams himself hoarse every time they turn their backs and disappear down the hall. _

Maybe in all of it, they've already tried to rescue him. Maybe they really have left him here, to rot in this cell. Maybe they're long gone. Maybe they've found a new paladin to pilot blue. Maybe they don't need him anymore.

_ "We'll come back for you" _

An explosion sounds far away and is followed by silence. Lance doesn't even have the energy to look up. His lower torso aches and his ribcage hurts if he breathes too deeply. His hands and feet have next to no feeling in them at all and his eyes protest as he struggles to open them, watering with little provocation.

There's a distant burst of gunfire, it seems to rattle through the air vents for several long moments, then silence again. Lances closes his eyes. It’s all too familiar. He waits.

He can't tell how much time passes before the sound of footsteps comes into range. For a moment, he can't place the unfamiliar rhythm, the uneven pace, some footsteps sounding lighter than others. Even thinking hurts now, but some small part of his brain supplies him with an answer. More than one person.

This is new. This is an uncharted territory of possible situations and outcomes. What will he be forced to watch now?

The footsteps stop abruptly outside the cell and Lance forces his eyes open again. In the small shaft of light under the door shadows move, and a voice, muffled by the walls slips beneath. He strains to catch the words.

"...dge...open..." the door begins to hum with electricity "...ready?"

As it slides open, a low metallic rumbling emanates from the wall and Lance has to squint, then close his eyes to the sharp light that spills into the cell.

"Lance?" not-Shiro's voice is laced with weariness. Lance is almost impressed by how accurate the stifled breath of relief sounds coming from a hologram. Unbidden, tears leak from the corners of his eyes. _ Not real, not real. _

He wishes it were.

There's the sound of shuffling as not-Shiro approaches him carefully, the soft clang of metal against the floor as he crouches down next to him.

"Lance," not-Shiro says quietly and Lance can almost trick himself into believing he can feel the breath across his cheek. He turns away.  _ Not real, not real. _

Then two large, warm hands rest on either side of his face, and Lance can't stop himself from leaning into them, rough fabric scratching across his skin as one thumb rubs a small circle into his cheekbone.

"We've got you, Lance," not-Shiro reassures softly. Why does he have to feel so real?

Then the warmth of the hands are gone and Lance whimpers at their absence, subconsciously moving his head, seeking them. He finds them again when they are placed on his upper arms where some feeling still remains. There is talking, Lance had been distracted and is almost sure he has missed something important. With difficulty, he zones into the conversation. Their voices seem far away, or underwater perhaps.

"Ready Hunk?"

_ Hunk? _

Lance barely has time to process the name before the sound of a laser firing splits the air and his arms fall.

Lance screams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have the paladins been doing?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings- Vomiting (non-graphic), description of dead bodies.
> 
> Whoa okay this chapter is kind of giant (10 pages in word!)
> 
> Anyway I'll be quiet and let you get to the chapter. I hope you enjoy!

From the moment they are shot out into the vacuum of space, the two paladins and their quarry are hit with heavy fire on all sides. Hundreds of fighter ships swarm out of the prison and are about to surround them as the green lion scoops the three into her mouth and turns tail, getting her paladin away from the danger. That doesn't stop Pidge from hammering on the walls of her lion, close to tears as she pleads for her to go back. Green can feel her distress, and unable to reassure her, hands over her controls. With the smallest paladin back in the driving seat, she turns to Shiro.

“What’s the plan?” Shiro looks, between them and Lance is an oncoming storm of galra fighter ships. In one corner Slav mutters something about their probability of success being less than one percent. He swallows the lump in his throat, they'll be overwhelmed at any moment. Before he can change his mind, he taps the side of his helmet.

“Allura we need a wormhole, now!” Her confirmation crackles through the comms, as Pidge rounds on him ready to protest. “Pidge please, don't make this any harder than it already is. We’re going to get Lance back but we can't do it alone,” the green lion is dodging in and out of the way of lasers, heading towards the now open wormhole. Just before they enter, Shiro looks back, guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

“We’re coming Lance,” he promises quietly, “hold on.”

-x-

The wormhole spits them out somewhere in the Balmera’s atmosphere, the suddenly added gravity throws them back a little as they head toward the castle. On the horizon, Shiro can see the mechanical creature, still encased in its crystal prison created by the Balmera. Then, Allura’s concerned voice sounds in his helmet.

“Shiro, the blue lion is distressed! She’s left the castle, has something happened to Lance? What’s going on?” Shiro doesn't have time to answer before a second voice cuts in.

“Keith and I got the scaltrite guys. Whats this about the blue lion? Lance buddy, you alright?” Hunk asks, just managing to cover the worry in his voice. There’s silence for a few long moments, everyone can feel the tension in the unspoken words. He hasn't had enough time to think through how he was going to tell the others what had just occurred, but before he has the chance to, he hears Pidges voice, both next to him and inside his helmet.

“Lance isn't here,” she says emotionlessly, no trace of her previous tearfulness present, “he was captured during our escape. We have to regroup and figure out a way to get him back. Right Shiro?” when she looks at him her eyes are set with determination, sometimes he forgets just how tough she is. Now is not the time to wallow in guilt, not when the rest of their rag tag group are looking to him for leadership.

“Everyone head back to the castle,” he orders, “I’ll explain everything once we get there, we’ll meet on the control deck. Allura, alert Kolivan, he’ll need to know that this could affect the plans,” he sighs. Out of one window he can see the distant streak of colour, Blue is heading away from the planet, trying to get to her paladin, but at this range, it will be impossible for her to pinpoint Lance’s location. He follows her path into the sky, sending transmission beams out into space, then circling round and repeating the same thing in another direction. Her movements look frantic, no wonder Allura can feel her distress.

Pidge lands green in the hangar half a minute later and the two of them are about to rush up to the control deck when something (or someone) makes a coughing noise. Shiro rounds on the eight legged alien.

“What?” He barks, struggling to contain his irritation. Slav apparently, is oblivious.

“What am I supposed to do? You seemed so keen to rescue me before but now you've been ignoring me this whole time. You are so keen to go back for your friend even though he is still alive at this point in only 418 realities! You people have some strange priorities if you ask me.” Shiro has to count to ten in order to stop himself from punching him.

“Why don't you just stay here and not bother anyone?” He manages to say through gritted teeth, and tries not to think about the words ‘still alive’. Slav opens his mouth to protest but Pidge grabs Shiro by the arm and pulls him away.

The ride up to the control deck feels like it takes forever. Pidge stands beside him in silence. He is impressed by her composure before he realises, she didn't give up on her dad and Matt for over a year, she isn't going to give up on Lance in less than a varga. He gives her shoulder a squeeze and she flashes Shiro a small smile.

Almost as soon as the lift doors open and they step out onto the bridge, Allura and the other paladins surround them. Hunk looks panicked, grabbing one of Shiro’s arms tightly.  
“Shiro whats going on, where’s Lance?” The yellow paladin asks frantically, even Keith hovers over his shoulder anxiously. He takes a deep breath, using his free arm to squeeze one of Hunk’s hands, then tells them what happened.

Between them, Shiro and Pidge manage to cover all of the important details of their mission, including their fight with the Galran prison guard, how Lance’s quick thinking on the airlock had allowed them to escape but he himself had been caught in the chaos, how they had been overwhelmed by the Galra fighters and had to get out of there quickly. Hunk gapes at them.

“But can't we just like, open up a wormhole for blue? Allura you said she’s flying around up there looking for him, can't we just let her go and rescue him?” Hunk suggests, but Shiro shakes his head.

“It’s too dangerous to let her go alone, not with the amount of firepower they have on that base, and especially without a pilot she is at risk of getting captured…” Shiro doesn’t get to finish before Keith interrupts him.

“So all of us go then,” he already looks like he is itching to get down to Red’s hangar, “We hit them with all we’ve got and get lance back, right?” This time it’s Allura who shoots down the idea.

“I’m afraid we can’t, not only would you be two lions down, but you would also be at a disadvantage because they will likely use Lance as some sort of bait. We cannot afford to play into their hands by showing up uncoordinated and without a plan,” She looks distressed, Shiro doesn't blame her. Though her argument may be sound, it doesn't take away from the sour taste it leaves in her mouth. At this, however, Pidge pipes up.

“Wait what do you mean we’d be two lions down? There are still four of us able to fly,” Shiro and Allura share a knowing look between themselves.

“Since our last battle with Zarkon, his bond with the black lion has been significantly weakened,” Shiro explains, “before then, Zarkon was able to find us almost as soon as we got away, those attacks were relentless and meant to weaken us, but the Galra fleet haven't found us for days now. However, Allura and I think that if I were to fly black, her consciousness becomes stronger, and will be easier for Zarkon to find. I wasn't going to fly her again until all our plans were in place, in order to lure him into a trap. Flying black will only make things worse, we cannot allow the Galra fleet to find us right now,” when he finishes, the other paladins stare at him in shock. Then, before they have the chance to ask any questions, a message flickers on to one of the large holographic screens, and Allura’s eyes widen with horror.

“What? What is it?” Hunk asks as they all watch the princess rush over to the screens, her frantic movements instilling anxiety in them all.

“Blue has lost her connection with Lance, something is interfering with their bond,” she looks nervously at them all, “because of your linked quintessence with your lions, you share their consciousness even if you do not notice it. When a paladin dies its lion knows that its paladin has been lost and prepares itself for a new pilot, but this…” she pauses, staring at the Altean symbols flashing across the screen, “Blue can no longer feel Lance’s consciousness, he must be somewhere where the interference is too great for her signal to reach.” She turns back to the paladins, stunned.

“When did this happen?” Shiro asks, joining the princess at the screen.

“Just now,” She answers, training her eye on the black paladin. Shiro’s gut twists as the realisation hits him, Lance has been moved from Beta Traz. There was nowhere on that base that had communications issues due to local interference, so if blue can no longer reach him, he can only logically assume that the Galra have taken the blue paladin somewhere else. Pidge seems to understand this as well.

“Shiro,” the shake in her voice is small but audible, “how are we going to find him?”

 _Think_ , he tells himself.

“Pidge, you downloaded the prison data from Beta Traz right?” She nods, “I need you to go though all of that, find any data on prisons, bases, work camps that have interference or are subject to communications issues that are relatively close by. There's no way they will have taken him to Zarkon’s ship, not with how fast this has all happened. They will have figured out that we are planning something and they will probably hold him for information,” he pauses and tries not to think about the year the Glara had held him, prisoner. He tries not to think about the methods of torture he suffered at their hands. He tries not to imagine those things happening to Lance.

He shakes his head slightly, now is not the time. Instead, he turns back to red and yellow paladins.

“Hunk, Keith, I need you guys to take the scaltrite to Coran, it’s still highly important that we get the Teludav built. Explain to him what’s happened, and if the Olkari can manage the rest of the building alone bring Coran back with you,” Keith looks like he is about to protest, “Keith, we don't have time to discuss this,” Shiro shuts him down quickly and tries to ignore his stubborn look, “I’m going to speak with Kolivan, see how long their insider can allow us to hold off the plan. Allura, if Slav can help to build a gravity generator we can cloak the ship, just in case Zarkon’s fleet arrives, we’ll have the advantage of being invisible to them,” Allura nods and touches Shiro’s arm in reassurance.

“Hunk, Keith I’m going to open up a wormhole for you, I want everyone back here in four vargas, is that understood?” Allura draws up to her full height and the paladin's nod at her in understanding. She watches them all head off in different directions and tries to suppress her fear. What lies ahead is uncertain for them all.

-x-

They all gather around Pidge’s small laptop screen, even though its connected to the main computer and is being broadcast on one of the large holograms, there is an air of tension that causes them to congregate close together.

_Twenty-one likely targets._

They are grouped into categories, the vast majority are just regular bases, though they could act as holding stations, there are also four prisons and two work camps on the list too. The information the data gives is sparse, only about half the locations have up to date information and the others, well, some have nothing but the coordinates of the base, not even a name. Coran breaks the uncomfortable silence.

“Number five, can you enter the coordinates into the map, perhaps it will give us a better idea of what were dealing with,” he rests a reassuring hand on her back as she complies, pulling up the map so that tiny virtual planets float around their heads.

Twenty-one glowing red dots are clustered into one corner of the galaxy, each one gleaming tauntingly like a crimson eye, bearing down on the six of them. Some of the dots move, these are the locations based on planets, floating around the control deck as they orbit around their respective sun. Coran ‘zooms in’ on this portion, so that it fills the majority of the deck, each dot has a tiny label and a series of flickering Altean symbols. The scale of the rescue mission is daunting.

“How do we know which bases to hit?” Keith asks quietly, watching one of the red dots as it floats past his head.

“We don’t,” Shiro grimaces, he hates admitting their disadvantage, “unfortunately, Lance could be at any one of these locations, which means,” he takes a deep breath, “it means that we’re going to have to hit them all. We’ll have to take down each base one by one until we find him. Except that also means that our first priority is going to be taking out any communications, we can’t let the Galra know we’re coming, if we’re found out then it's likely that they will…move Lance to another location. The Galra already have the upper hand, they’ll be expecting us to come and rescue Lance, and probably aim to capture one of the lions in order to weaken Voltron,” he finishes. Shiro tries not to think of the alternatives.

“So,” Keith continues to watch the little red dot, “this one first then?”

 

-x-

The first planet has a magnetic storm raging in its stratosphere, the source of the planets interference. The winds are hurricane force, sand and small pieces of debris hit the red and yellow lions on all sides. Even Keith struggles to fly smoothly in these conditions, and Shiro releases a breath of relief when they touchdown on the surface. 

A barren landscape greets them. In the low visibility caused by the high winds and the sand being whipped up around them, Shiro can barely see ten feet in front of him. The wind howls around the lions, which creak worryingly. Pidge’s voice crackles through the comms, their short range helmet signals are being affected.

“The interference on the surface of the planet isn’t as bad as it was up there, I should be able to scan for life forms,” She informs them. They wait quietly for a moment while she carries out the scans, using the modified equipment she added to yellow. The comms hiss with static as she comes in again. “Scans show no other life forms on this planet, just the four of us.”

“Don’t blame them,” Hunk comes in, “this place is pretty desolate.” Shiro hums in agreement.

“I suspect these storms would bury any buildings here in a matter of vargas, it’s hardly the best place for a settlement. This place was just a base right?” Shiro muses.

“Yes,” Keith answers, “and the place was probably abandoned once they figured that out.” Just then there is a particularly strong gust of wind and Hunk and Keith have to dig the claws of their respective lions into the sandy earth in order to not be blown off balance.

“Alright, let's not waste any more time here, everyone head back to the castle,” Shiro orders. They can at least rule one option out now, only, Shiro suspects that not all their missions will be so easy as this one.

 

-x-

The second target is a recently occupied planet. The Galra have not had enough time to set up a permanent transmissions tower, and it only takes a single blast of green’s laser to put their temporary one out of commission. In terms of Galra, there are fewer than 20. The planet has no native living species but the land is fertile, this was meant to be a farming planet, growing food to help supply the vast Galran army. There are hundreds of machines, farming equipment. Quick scans of these show that they do not contain communications equipment, nor the means to build such equipment, and their computer systems only contain farming information and simple programming. Data from the system tells them that the next expected supply ship is not arriving for another two years. 

They destroy their ships, essentially stranding them on the planet. Now they're down to nineteen.

-x-

The fourth is a prison, run by a few Galra and sentries for the manual work. Whilst the paladins lock them up in the cells they've been guards to for so long, Coran and Allura, ferry the prisoners to a nearby rebel planet. They check every cell, Lance isn't there.

The fifth is abandoned.

The sixth is a work camp which they liberate from the Galra. The planet's inhabitants are short reptilian creatures, orange in colour and with small milky eyes, forced to mine precious stones from a set of mountain ranges. Bismite had once been a rich trading planet, Coran explains. He had visited several times with Alfor, before the war. There are pockets of high gravity across the surface of the planet, which are the cause of both the formation of the stones and the communications issues. The paladins leave, laden with priceless rocks which only add to the weighted feeling on their shoulders.

The seventh is located on a planet orbiting a black hole. Using the long range telescope they spot a large black scar on the surface, and among the fire springing from the ground, a wrecked Galra base. _Fourteen._

Eight is a series of hangars, full of Galra fighter planes. On the ground, Pidge is able to hack into the security system, including the camera’s which cover every inch of the base. When there are no signs of Lance or any other prisoners, the paladins slip away undetected.

On nine the natives have risen up and taken their planet back for themselves. Galra haven't set foot on the planet in months.

Ten is another work camp.  The small planet has seven sizeable moons that wreak havoc on its atmospheric gravity. Keith and Shiro take red down to the surface to scope out the situation. Leaving the lion hidden in a cave they venture out, there is a breathable atmosphere, though the air carries a foul smell that makes Keith keep his face guard up. The surface is rocky, dusty orange in colour, the slight breeze sends sand skittering across the earth. It's hot, even their temperature regulators are struggling to keep the heat at bay, Shiro can feel the sweat beading on his back. 

From the data they took from Beta Traz, there should be a network of mines about two miles from here, so they set off east cautiously. Soon enough, ventilation shafts begin to appear in the rocky landscape, dark holes descending into the earth. As soon as they spot the base, they can tell it’s abandoned, the hangar door lies wide open, not a single aircraft in sight. Scouring the base takes less than half a varga to confirm that it is empty. Keith’s suit gives him a warning beep. He’s running low on oxygen, he forgot to refill the tanks back at the castle. Sighing he lifts the face guard.

Almost immediately his nose is assaulted by the smell again causing him to cough, his eyes watering.

“Everything okay Keith?” Shiro asks. Keith nods, swallowing the bile in his throat. They head out into the desert again. Impossibly the smell gets worse, Keith wishes he had his jacket to pull up over his nose. He notices the dip in the landscape, they must have missed it before. A slight haze hangs in the air above it.

“I’m going to check that out,” he mutters into the comms, pointing in the direction of the dip, “cover me?” He watches Shiro nod in approval, then heads towards it. The ground slopes downwards at first, before turning steeply upwards for a few yards, the earth crumbles beneath his feet, so he has to scramble for a few seconds before the ground plateaus again and he can peer over the lip of earth.

The alien natives are a bipedal species with pinkish skin and humanoid features. The differences were the overly large eyes and where the nose would be, three horizontal flaps of skin, that have a resemblance to gills as well as having four fingers instead of five. They might as well be human as he looks over the mass grave, a sea of tangled limbs, eyes wide open and unseeing, a small child clutched in the arms of an adult. He stumbles away from the edge, bending over and throwing up in the dirt, trying to burn the image from his mind. Shiro is by his side in an instant, steadying him with one hand on his arm and another around his back. Keith realises he’s shaking. 

At eleven, Keith blows up the base the second they get the all clear from Pidge that there are no prisoners inside. 

After twelve, Hunk dissolves into a puddle of tears on the floor of the debriefing room. With gentle coaxing and reassurance from Pidge and Coran, he voices their fears.

“What if we c-can’t get Lance b-back?” Hunk manages between sobs. Shiro doesn't know the answer.

When they liberate the remaining work camp on thirteen, it no longer feels like a victory. With each mission they fail to find Lance, the paladins become more defeated, Shiro struggles to remain positive during their briefings. Even Allura is finding it difficult to push away the negative thoughts and ‘what ifs’, Coran is running out of words with which to comfort her.

The six of them stare at the fourteenth target, a small moon composed almost entirely of lead. It’s surrounded by a lead filled dust cloud and the information they have tells them that the operations are based underground. It’s glowing red dot on the map hovers above them, out of reach. Shiro grits his teeth.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being patient with me. I am moving to uni in a few days but hopefully, I will update before then!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo so.... Sorry that this update took so long, I just moved into uni and have been very busy these last couple of weeks but I finally found the time to write this chapter! With any luck, chapter updates should come more regularly from now on! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy, and I very appreciate your patience!

Their first aim is to take out the communications towers on the moon's surface. Hidden by the dust cloud, but close enough to penetrate the lead barrier, and with some exceptional manoeuvres on Pidge’s part, (they can practically hear Hunk gagging in the cockpit), she manages to pinpoint the locations of the towers with her modified scanning system.

There is one main tower, it spirals upwards out of the ground and into the dusty air, its dish is situated above the stratospheric dust cloud and out of the atmosphere entirely, likely in order to maintain frequent communications with the main Galra fleet. They will have to take this one out first, then work quickly to destroy the two back up towers on the moon's surface. The surface towers work by waiting on gaps or thinning areas in the dust cloud in order to send out their signals. It’s not a reliable system by any means, but the paladins can't afford to take any chances.

“Alright everyone,” Shiro speaks into the comms in his helmet from his position inside of red’s cockpit, “On my count, hit the satellite dish with everything you've got. Once it’s down Pidge and Hunk, you take the east tower and Kieth and I will take the north one. Then we regroup and head for the docking hangar.” He hears the positive response of the green and yellow paladin come through the speakers.

“Hold on tight,” Kieth mutters beside him. Shiro takes a firm grip on the back of the red paladins chair.

“Three,” Kieth grips the leavers of his lion tightly, “Two,” Shiro hears Hunk mutter something he doesn't catch over the comms, “One,” the red lion begins to vibrate slightly in anticipation.

“Now!” As Shiro shouts the command, Kieth thrusts the red lion forward, the force of the sudden movement throwing the black paladin back slightly. The wind rushes around them, creaking paired with the sound of thousands of tiny lead sand grains raining on the metal hull really re-enforces just how fast these ships can move. Kieth pulls the lion upwards sharply, and begins circling around the tower, searching for any weak points. The white material comes up unblemished as expected, this tower has been sturdily built in order to withstand the strong winds whipped up by the storms. The cloud begins to thin as they enter the upper atmosphere, visibility increasing as the light from the nearby star is no longer blocked. Then the dish comes into sight, almost a mile across in diameter, a series of flickering purple lights flash on and off periodically around its rim, and where its base meets the tower, a series of bolts.

“Focus your lasers on the join,” Shiro shouts, as they streak past the green lion in a blur, before being thrown into the back of Keith’s chair as he pulls the red lion to a halt. There’s half a tick where he flicks a few switches before the lion seems to roar, pouring its laser beam from its mouth, melting the metal where it connects to the bolting system. There's a satisfying groan as the dish tips to one side, and when Pidge starts adding her hits in, it doesn't take long for the dish to end up pointing at a right angle the moon's surface. Kieth blasts the focal horn once more for good measure. Hopefully, they’ll have put it out of commission for long enough to scour out the base.

The green lion streaks off in one direction whilst Kieth steers red north, plummeting down through the dust clouds and shooting out the other side. Almost as soon as they are visible, fighters on the ground begin firing right at them. Keith swerves and rolls in order to avoid getting hit, leaving Shiro holding onto the seat for dear life. With seaming ease, Keith takes out the laser stations, then with a few short blasts, the communications towers topples, crashing down onto the moons surface, sending up a column of blue-grey dust.

“Pidge,” Shiro addresses the green paladin over the comms, “north tower is down, we’re heading back to the docking hangar, is the east tower down?” There are a few moments of silence, then the speakers crackle slightly, and Hunk’s voice replies.

“East tower is down Shiro.” 

 

-x-

The manage to blast their way into the hangar and take out most of the ships inside before they are met with resistance. Just as Pidge plugs her laptop into one of the computer docks, another door leading off the hangar opens, and about 30 sentries begin firing at them. Shiro and Keith throw up their shields in order to protect their vulnerable member currently hacking into the computer system. Crouching behind them, Hunk activates his Bayard, and with one swift movement, the black and red paladins pull apart allowing a beam from the blaster to knock out a several of the oncoming sentries. A few more blasts, and robotic parts litter the floor. Just as they ready themselves for another attack, the machines jerk strangely, then their lights go out, and one by one crash to the floor.

“I hacked their main power systems,” Pidge explains offhandedly, still typing rapidly into the keyboard, “They don't have a backup generator that I can locate, so they should be offline for at least a couple of hours,” Shiro crouches down next to her, scanning the screen. Even with their helmets improved translation programming, the words flicker past faster than he can read. This, however, does not seem to be a problem for Pidge as she continues to talk, without even missing a keystroke. “I can pull up a basic map from here and I'm sending it to all of your helmets now, but I can't access any cameras and the walls down here are pure lead so I can’t scan for other lifeforms. If we can get to the main computer console I could probably get into their surveillance,” She turns her head to look at Shiro, “What do we do now?”

Shiro pauses for a tick to weigh up their options before standing, and turning to the other two paladins.

“Hunk, you and I are going to head down towards the holding cells. Pidge, we need you to head for the main computer console and get access to surveillance and download all the information you can, then feedback to us our situation, Kieth will go with you,” he orders. There’s an unspoken agreement between them that ‘the situation’, is Lance. Pidge nods grimly, and she and Kieth head off down a side passage, the latter sword drawn on alert.

They watch them disappear around a corner. Shiro pulls up the virtual map inside the helmets and Hunk does the same. A glowing series of lines and symbols light up on the inside of the face guard, a small red line blinks periodically at them. 

“We’ve gotta go that way,” Shiro says, pointing to the door that the sentries had come out of. Hunks shoulders slump.

“Aw, man, why do we always have to go _towards_ where all the fight-y things came from,” he groans. Shiro almost chuckles, squeezing the yellow paladins arm.

“Come on,” He says, and they take off down the hallway.

They run for several minutes, not encountering any resistance, though they do find the occasional drone abandoned on the floor, clearly Pidge’s tampering with the power source didn't just affect the sentries. The comms in Shiro’s helmet crackle again, and he and Hunk pull up short in an alcove.

“S-shiro,” Pidge’s small voice comes across the intercom, it sounds a little off, perhaps from the interference down here.

“Pidge, what is it,” the black paladin asks. There are a few ticks of silence, and when Pidge speaks again, her voice is distant and monotonous.

“It’s Lance. He’s here.” 

Shiro’s gut clenches tightly, beside him, Hunk turns an ashy colour. It’s been weeks, more raids than he cares to remember, tears, anxiety, the disappointment after each unsuccessful trip, and they've finally found him. Shiro momentarily loses the ability to speak, Hunk however, does not.

“Where is he?” There’s an underlying desperation mixed with determination when he asks.

“Take the next right and straight on, it will be the first door you come to,” She replies, her voice still strangely vacant.

They set off at a run, and even though anxiety gnaws at his stomach in anticipation, Shiro turns on the private link with Pidge.

“Pidge, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks her, voice full of concern. He can hear her breathing but she takes a moment to reply.

“It’s…it’s bad Shiro. Just,” her voice hitches, “let’s get him out of here.” He’s distracted by the dreadful sinking feeling that accompanies her words until something shoves him into the wall.

“Shiro look out!” Hunk cries, and narrowly avoids the laser beam that blasts a hole in the floor, right where Shiro had been standing moments ago. Before he has the chance to get Pidge onto the problem, Hunk activates his bayard and blasts at the laser in the ceiling. Chunks of rock and debris rain down around them and when the dust clears, a crater emerges in the rock face above them. The stop and pant for a moment, their lungs catching up to their legs.

“Was that overkill? Do you think that was too much?” Hunk asks nervously. Shiro just shrugs and gives him a look that says, _‘well, it worked?’_. 

He shakes his head trying to convince his brain to focus as they resume running down the hallway, once Pidge has cleared the rest of the ‘booby-traps’ from their path. It’s only a minute or so before they spot the alcove.

The door is set into the wall, its smooth surface bears no buttons, screens or any significant marks for that matter. It seems suspended from the doorframe above them, a small gap where the bottom of it meets the floor. A small keypad protrudes from the wall at shoulder height, a series of symbols lit up with purple light are scattered across it. Shiro touches the side of his helmet.

“Pidge how do we get this door open?” He asks her, hoping he sounds more confident that he feels. The sound of frantic typing patters across the intercom.

“I can unlock the door from here, just give me a few more ticks,” She replies, they can practically hear the concentration in her voice. True to her word, only a few ticks pass before a whirring noise starts up followed by a series of clicking sounds and the door begins to slowly slide into the wall.

He turns to the yellow paladin, he doesn't miss the white-knuckled grip on his bayard, nor the way his hands tremble ever so slightly. Shiro reaches out, resting his own hand over one of Hunk's. He stares at Shiro, there’s no masking the fear in his face. He gives the hand a tight squeeze.

“Ready?” He asks gently, urging the younger paladin to prepare himself. For a moment, he’s not sure if Hunk has heard him, but then he nods slowly.

The door is now about halfway open, enough room that Shiro can slip into the cell through the gap. It’s dark inside and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, the only light comes from out in the hall, and the steady purple glow of the dim lights that criss-cross the floor. Squinting into the darkness, something catches his eye. The mass near the centre of the room is a shade darker than the surrounding area. He takes a tentative step forward and the shapes become more distinctive.

The column protrudes out of the floor to probably about ten feet in the air. At regular intervals, there are notches in the material, from which hang what look like chains that end in large round spheres. Shiro’s eyes flicker to near the base of the column, where another shape seems connected to the dangling spheres. Skimming over the long limbs to the hunched body, head hung limply over his chest, the door still opening behind him casts a shaft of light across his tangled mop of brunette hair. The tight feeling in his chest unfurls and he lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

“Lance,” he calls out, picking his way carefully across the floor. Lance flinches at the sound of his name and Shiro thinks he can hear him muttering quietly. Crouching down in front of Lance as close the circumstances allow he tries to get the blue paladins attention again by saying his name again. There is a part of him that is aware that touching Lance right now could cause him unnecessary stress depending on…Shiro cringes at the path his mind goes down. 

Lance seems to shake his head, turning away from Shiro’s voice with eyes scrunched closed and begins muttering again, head swaying side to side slightly. Shiro’s chest tightens all over again as he recognises the comforting rocking movement. Daring to lean in close, he strains to listen to what Lance is saying. Shiro’s gut clenches, his throat suddenly feels swollen, as he catches to the two words, over and over.

“ _Not real, not real, not real_ ,” The younger boys lips hardly move and the words trail off into a murmur. At this distance Shiro can see the tear tracks shining on Lance’s cheeks, and has to fight off his own, blinking rapidly and swallowing the lump in his throat.

He has to focus. Very slowly, so as not to startle him in any way, he brings his hands up to cup Lance’s face, and tip his head up to face his own. Lance responds to this and whines softly, pressing his face into Shiro’s hands but still not opening his eyes. Shiro rubs small circles across his cheekbones soothingly. There are dark bags under his eyes, making them look purple and bruised, combined with the greyish colour of his skin and all round clammy pallor, it’s no wonder Lance is disoriented, though he doesn't seem to have a fever, thank god for small mercies. 

“We’ve got you, Lance,” he says reassuringly, continuing to stroke his cheek softly with his thumb. The crackling of the intercom pulls him back to reality abruptly, and Pidge’s voice sounds thickly in his helmet.

“I’ve shut off the electromagnets in the shackles, you should be able to take those ball things off now but you may still have to blast the chains off for his arms, the ones for his legs aren't the same mechanism,” Shiro nods along to her instructions and after a moment's silence remembers that she can't see him.

“Copy that Pidge, good job,” He manages to croak out. Suddenly remembering the yellow paladin, Shiro turns to find Hunk has frozen to the spot just inside the door, the look of worry apparent on his face as he stares Lance’s dishevelled form. Shiro quickly formulates a plan in his head. First, he lets go of Lance, who whimpers, seeking out Shiro’s absent hands, it feels like a punch to the gut, but it’s necessary if they are going to get him out of here. Second, he strides over to where Hunk is stood and takes him by the shoulders, forcing his gaze onto his face and away from Lance for a moment. His eyes are already watery.

“Hunk, look at me,” he starts, Hunk’s gaze focuses on Shiro’s face as he continues, “Lance is going to be fine,” Shiro only hopes that comes out more confident than he feels, “but we need to get him out of these shackles, and I need _your_ help,” there’s a long moment where Hunk just stares at him, then nods slowly. Shiro presses on, “I’ll remove the spheres and hold his arms so that he doesn't fall, then, on my count I need you to blast the metal fixings from the pole. Can you do that?” Shiro watches as Hunk’s eyes slide from his face, and over his shoulder to take a long look at Lance. He blinks rapidly and swallows.

“Yes,” he confirms though the word sounds thick and wet. Shiro gives him a proud smile and lets his hands linger on his shoulders for a moment longer for reassurance. 

Shiro pries the two halves of the sphere apart, they come apart with a small popping sound, and he is surprised to find that though they are made of metal, they are surprisingly light. Tossing them to one side he pulls off the shackles around Lance's ankles finding they come off with ease. Then he positions himself in front of Lance, crouching on his heels and wraps his hands around the blue paladin's elbows, testing their support. He casts a look over his shoulder to where Hunk stands, blaster activated and pointed at the column.

“Ready Hunk?” He asks, he feels Lance stir slightly under his hands. On the count of three, Shiro braces himself as the laser skims over his head, missing him by mere inches and shatters the metal chains, along with debris raining down on them. 

Unfortunately, he had miscalculated how much support the shackles were giving to keep Lance’s arms up, which jolt forward. There’s a solid second where he can hear the jarring crunch of muscle and bone in Lance’s shoulders before the sound is cut off by his scream. It rips through his mouth, tears almost immediately begin to streak down his face again as it morphs into a moan, and tapers off into a broken sob. 

Hunk tucks in behind Lance’s back, wrapping two strong arms around his torso and rubs his chest soothingly. He gives Shiro a nod that lets him know he can continue. Shiro slowly begins lowering Lance’s arms, they are already pretty messed up and he doesn't want to cause any more damage even as Lance thrashes and cries against Hunk, it’s not the same as ripping off a band-aid. Once his arms a parallel to his shoulders, Shiro thinks they are past the worst of it and starts to drop them the rest of the way. He couldn't have been more wrong. Lance howls, throwing his head back onto Hunk’s shoulder, his chest heaving as he cries even harder. That's when Shiro notices the purple, grey tinge to Lance’s hands and cringes again.

“ _Please stop, please, please, please_ ,” Lance cries and the words trail off into sobbing and coughing. Hunk continues to rub Lance’s chest, trying to calm him.

“I know it hurts buddy,” he soothes, Lance hiccups, Hunk isn't even sure how much he can even hear right now but presses on anyway, “we’ve got you, we’re gonna get you out of here,” he coos, bringing a hand up to stroke Lance’s forehead once Shiro gently lays his hands onto his lap. He desperately tries to ignore the guilty feeling bubbling in his chest, he reaches out to rub Lance’s upper arm, but it only causes him to cry out and turn to hide his face against Hunk’s neck. He jerks his hand back guiltily, settling for resting a reassuring hand on Lance’s side. 

“How is he?” Pidge’s wobbly voice sounds in his helmet, Shiro ignores the wobble for now as he knows she will want him to, but makes a mental note to check in with her later.

“He’s in a bad way,” he replies, there’s no point in sugarcoating it, “we need to hear back to the castle now, is Keith with you?” He doesn't have to wait for Pidge to reply to get his answer as at that moment the red paladin bolts around the door of the cell and skids to a halt, his breathing is laboured.

“Right here,” he pants, there is something else mixed in with his tone as he continues, “we won't be having any more problems with Galra here,” Shiro doesn't miss the way Keith’s face twists behind the face shield, or the way his eyes narrow when he spots Lance. He must quickly switch to a private link with Shiro as some of the static fades. “I could hear him over the intercom,” it’s barely more than a whisper but the gut-clenching feeling returns, if Keith heard Lance, it was likely that Pidge had heard everything too. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, and at the very bottom of the list of things he needs to do, is reprimand Keith for leaving Pidge on her own (not that she isn’t capable), and there’s something about what he said about the Galra that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Once Pidge informs Shiro that there are no other prisoners, (small mercies, he thinks, small mercies) he tells her to meet them back at the hangar and the lions. Hunk carefully loosens his grip on Lance, then Shiro scoops the blue paladin up into his arms, resting his head against his chest as they take off back to the hangar.

Whilst his prosthetic arm is much stronger than a normal arm would be, Lance is still worryingly light in his arms, a hip bone digs into his stomach as they jog and Shiro holds him a little tighter. He’s still wearing his under suit from their gear, but it feels soaked through, cold and damp to the touch. Lance has started muttering incoherently again, head lolling backwards and forwards, eyes opening and closing periodically, letting out the occasional groan whenever Shiro accidentally jostles him too much. He looks scarily small, huddled against Shiro’s chest.

Pidge has made it before them and she bolts over to them when they reach the hangar.

“Lance,” she calls out her friends name, trying to stop her eyes from watering. Lance stops muttering at the sound of her voice, his eyes snap open and he stares at the green blur heading towards them.

It happens before Shiro can even register it, Lance using his weak arms to push wildly away from his chest, his whole body squirming to get out of Shiro’s arms. Caught off guard Lance slips from his arms, only to be caught under the armpits by Hunk, and when Lance tries to stand, and his legs give way, Keith is immediately on his other side, attempting to lower him to the floor with care. Lance struggles against them both, his head snaps round to Pidge, his eyes wide and glassy.

“Pidge, run!” He shrieks, his body carrying forward in a surprising turn of strength, Hunk and Keith have to strain to hold him upright, “They’re coming, please!” He shouts, his breathing becoming more laboured but continuing to thrash against the hold of his friends, “Leave me!” His voice suddenly becomes more panicked, the thrashing turning into violent shaking. 

Shiro has to praise Pidge for what she does next. Crouching down in front of the trembling blue paladin she lifts her hands and cups his face until he holds her gaze. Then she says as calmly as possible,

“It’s alright Lance, it’s alright, we’ve got you,” she soothes, brushing her thumb across his cheek. He shudders harder, shaking his head as much as Pidge’s hands will allow.

“You’re not safe,” the words are slurred and his eyes flicker from her face to the room behind her and then back again. She shuffles closer, blocking his vision of the hangar.

“I’m safe with you here Lance,” she assures.

Lance bursts into tears. Gently, Pidge tucks his head into the crook of her neck, wrapping her arms around him as he sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” Lance’s words are muffled against her armour, but they all still hear them. Pidge just hushes him, carding her fingers through his hair and coaches his breathing. On one side, Hunk wraps his arm around Lance’s back, and murmurs reassuring words into his shoulder. Shiro rubs Lance’s still heaving back and even Keith places a grounding hand on his other shoulder. 

They stay that way for some time until Lance’s cries quiet and he slumps back against Shiro and Hunk, Pidge still running a hand through his hair in a soothing fashion. After a moment, Keith reaches out and gives Pidge’s shoulder a squeeze, she stares at him.

“I can pull Green back to the castle,” he says. Pidge understands, and nods gratefully, bringing up her other hand to rest on top of Keith’s. 

As they all climb into Red’s cockpit and settle down for the ride home, Shiro can't help but think, of all the possible scenarios he had imagined, this was worse, far worse than anything he had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I finally changed the title of this fic, it was "As yet Unknown" only because it had the same meaning as 'untitled' whoops. But yeah now its "Bandaids and Space NyQuil"


End file.
